


hate me when i'm gone

by restless5oul



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Motorsport RPF
Genre: Angst, Friends With Benefits, Grief/Mourning, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Unrequited Love, charles leclerc is a heartbreaker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 22:12:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18508111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/restless5oul/pseuds/restless5oul
Summary: charles was a nice boy. he’d been told so. but nice boys didn’t do things like this.mick was a nice boy too, charles shouldn’t have been doing this with him.





	hate me when i'm gone

**Author's Note:**

> i don't really know what this is. but i wanted to do something a little darker with these two for once.  
> i hope you don't hate it.

Charles was a nice boy, or at least he liked to think so. But nice boys didn’t do things like this.

Mick was a nice boy too, and Charles knew shouldn’t have been doing this with him.

Those thoughts continually swirled in his mind.

When he was pressing Mick against the door of the bathroom stall.

When he was pulling Mick on top of him as they fell against the bed.

When he had his mouth on Mick’s lips, his neck, his chest, his hips.

He didn’t have a clue what he was doing.

It was never supposed to turn into this, it was just supposed to be some fun.

Charles thought all this as he looked down at Mick curled up with his head on his lap, fast asleep.

Someone was going to get hurt. And Charles didn’t think it would be him.

 

***

 

Charles didn’t remember how it started. He supposed the seeds must have been planted sometime when they’d both been at Prema together. But Mick had always just seemed like a sweet kid to him. Nothing more.

Somewhere that had changed.

Maybe it had been in the way Mick had stolen glances at Charles, precious seconds when he felt like the world wasn’t watching. There was something in those looks that lit of spark of excitement in Charles’ chest. Because in them he could tell Mick knew he shouldn’t be doing it, yet he couldn’t stop himself. Maybe the fun was in the fact that they both knew it was something neither of them should be doing.

Stolen glances turned into stolen touches. Lingering hands, thighs pressed too close together as they sat side by side, their shoulders grazing every few seconds.

And then one night it had just been the two of them, walking home together from dinner.

They had both left early, nice boys didn’t stay out past their bedtimes after all.

But there had been no reason for Charles to walk Mick all the way to his room. And there was certainly no excuse for Mick to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Charles’ mouth before he darted inside.

The brief second he’d seen the look in Mick’s eyes, Charles had known he felt the same thing he did. For two people so sensible, so careful, so responsible, there was something thrilling in doing something that felt more than just a little wrong.

So much for being nice.

 

***

 

They didn’t talk about it the next time they ran into each other at the factory.

They didn’t talk at all.

Charles had nodded his head towards the nearest door and Mick had let Charles pull him inside. For a second they had both held their breath, stood too close for them to have any good excuse for it. He held the gaze of those blue eyes, an unspoken exchange passing between them. Mick didn’t say a word, he scarcely even blinked, but he did move first.

And there was nothing sweet or chaste or nice about the way he kissed Charles this time. It was all teeth and tongue, open-mouthed and just a little bit desperate. There was no finesse; reminding Charles that he should know better. Mick may have carried a look on his face that made him look much older than he was. But up close Charles could see every inch of naivety in his expression, and all the innocence he was sure he was taking away.

But Mick seemed happy to let him take it.

 

***

 

After Baku. That’s when Charles should have stopped, that’s when he had known but he had chosen to ignore it. He felt himself tumbling to the bottom but he shouldn’t have dragged Mick down with him.

But it was after too many days and nights sat in clinical waiting rooms, downing the last dregs of coffee from styrofoam cups. After hours spent praying to a God he hadn’t believed in for four years. After too many and not enough tears all at the same time.

He was exhausted and Mick was too nice for his own good.

It was too easy in so many ways, to take what Mick was offering.

“I’m so sorry,” had been the first thing Mick had said, and Charles had flinched.

“Do you need anything?” had been the second sentence to come out of his mouth, as Charles put down his bag.

“Yeah,” he’d croaked, then his lips had been on Mick’s and his hands on his hips and he was pulling him towards the bedroom and Charles could tell from the momentary stiffening of his spine that this hadn’t been what Mick meant. But then he melted under his touch and Charles knew he was only doing what both of them wanted.

He let Mick push him onto the bed, he let Mick undress them both, he let Mick press him into the mattress, and Mick let him whisper in his ear;

“Fuck me.”

And Mick obliged, both of them clumsy but too needy to care. There was a gentle studied care to Mick’s movements, and it felt like it was Charles’ job to get him to let go, to stop thinking about what he was supposed to do, and just do what he wanted. And when he did let go, it was the bliss and the oblivion that Charles had been looking for.

They lay next to each other, naked and aching, and Mick didn’t turn his head when he spoke.

“I understand, you know. I know how it feels.”

Charles glanced at his profile, the gentle slope of his nose, and the sharp jawline just starting to show through as Mick finally left his childhood behind.

He didn’t say anything.

He didn’t tell Mick what he thought.

 _Maybe you do. But that doesn’t mean I understand your pain, no matter how badly you want me to_.

Charles just closed his eyes, feeling for the first time that he wasn’t as nice as Mick and everyone else thought he was.

 

***

 

After that it was a steady routine.

Charles didn’t use Mick to forget again. He only used him for pleasure, but that felt fair. Mick was getting the same thing from him after all.

But a part of Charles knew that he wasn’t using him in the same way.

They got smarter about it. They both understood that they couldn’t do this often, and it wasn’t something they went out of their way to seek. But if they were together and the opportunity arose, then they both grabbed it with two hands.

It only got better, as they both got more confident, less shy. When to the rest of the world they had all the niceties and politeness to give, it felt good to explore the other side with each other. They seemed to understand each other. They understood while it didn’t mean they were faking it the rest of the time, there was something more honest about the way they were with each other.

Even if it was something they didn’t show the rest of the world.

It was simple and it worked.

Until it wasn’t, and it didn’t.

 

***

 

When Mick joined Ferrari, everything shifted.

They were both the golden boys now, and Charles knew that pressure well, but he wasn’t sure if Mick understood what it meant. Despite everything they’d been doing together, and all the growing up he’d done, Charles still looked at Mick and saw that same sweet kid. Not as sure or as wise or as strong as he told people he was.

He knew he could handle it; he just didn’t think it’d be easy.

Now they were together more often, they found themselves falling into bed together more frequently. Especially now they were in Maranello at the same time, it was all too easy to avoid sleeping alone.

It was more convenient; it was more intense.

Mick looked at Charles a little differently now. Anything that had previously been guarded about his expression was gone. He looked at Charles with open and honest eyes, a look Charles hadn’t seen him give anyone else. It reminded him of how fundamentally good Mick was. It reminded him of how he was supposed to be.

He was so careful. So careful not to say too much or do too much, lest there be some misunderstanding. He had always been so good at that, cleverly playing his cards, keeping some close to his chest, only showing his hand when it felt right, when he was sure he could afford to.

There was no reason for Mick to get the wrong idea.

Yet it was getting harder and harder for Charles to ignore the fact that he had.

 

***

 

Charles made the now too-familiar trip up the stairs of the old, echoing building, hyper-aware of his footsteps ringing on the stone steps, like they wanted to let everyone know exactly what he was doing. He hadn’t text Mick, they tended not to anymore, they knew well enough if the other was around, and if they were, more often than not, one of them would show up at the other’s door.

There was a buzzing in his pocket and Mick’s name on the screen of his phone. Charles felt a odd satisfaction he probably shouldn’t have enjoyed in knowing that Mick had been the first to cave and ask him to come over.

“I’m about five seconds away, don’t you worry,” Charles chuckled, his voice carrying in the cavernous corridor despite his attempts to keep it low.

“Oh I…the door’s open I-I’m in the bathroom,” Mick’s voice sounded strained, perhaps even a little choked up.

The satisfaction in Charles’ chest disappeared instantly, and was replaced by a more uncomfortable feeling that tasted a little sour in his mouth and let his stomach churning.

“Um, okay,” he said, part of him hoping that this was just some game, that Mick was teasing him like he enjoyed doing sometimes.

“Sorry, I didn’t know who to call, my sister wasn’t picking up and-…” Charles heard Mick take a deep gulp of breath, cutting himself off.

“It’s uh…look I’m here, I’m coming in now.”

Charles ended the call as he pushed open the door to Mick’s room, letting it lock behind him. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, the crack letting him know that the light was on. Trepidation was the only thing he felt as he stuck his head inside, an anxious unease that he was walking into unknown territory in his twisted relationship with Mick.

The first thing he saw was Mick’s phone lying on the floor beside the bath, a large crack running across the screen. His eyes travelled upwards to the porcelain bath, filled almost to the brim with cloudy water. Mick was sat in the water, his knees pressed against his chest, light perspiration covering his pale skin, and water dripping from his blonde hair down his face, barely making him flinch. The only thing in the whole scene that truly disturbed Charles was the look on his face.

Mick glanced up at Charles as he stepped inside the humid bathroom, the steam hanging thick in the air. There was a blankness to his expression that made him look like a child, except for his eyes. But his eyes were haunted, like he was only half present, his mind stuck thinking above something other than the stuffy bathroom he was sat in.

Charles crouched on the bath mat, glad when Mick spoke, because he didn’t think he had a single word to say.

“They offered me the young driver’s test.”

That was when Charles noticed that Mick was shivering – no, shaking – despite the steam rising off the bath water.

“That’s great,” Charles said reflexively, though his voice sounded hollow.

“I don’t want it.”

There were a few awkward seconds, and when it became apparent that Charles didn’t know what to say, Mick averted his gaze back to the surface of the water.

At a loss for something else to do, Charles picked up a towel off the floor.

“Come on,” he coaxed gently, using the voice he did whenever he was looking after his younger cousins, or maybe his brother.

To his surprise, Mick obeyed. He moved slowly, but he stood up and let Charles wrap the towel around his shoulders – but not before he noticed the crescent shaped marks his fingernails had left in his upper arms where he’d been holding on too tight.

Charles guided him to the bedroom and sat next to him on the bed. He tried not to jump when Mick rested his head on his lap.

“It was my fault, I was there,” Mick mumbled, so softly Charles could barely make out the words, “I just looked back and he was…”

Charles shushed him gently, running his hands through Mick’s hair. He didn’t want to hear anymore, he just couldn’t.

These weren’t things Mick should be saying, this wasn’t a moment he should be privy to. Of course he wanted Mick to trust him, but not with things like this, not with seeing him like this. He shouldn’t be this involved, he couldn’t let it go any deeper.

It was too much; it was too real.

This had to end.

 

***

 

In the end Mick forced the issue.

They didn’t speak about that night. Maybe that was mostly Charles’ fault when he’d waited until he was sure Mick was deep enough asleep and had snuck out back to his own room without leaving so much as a note. Charles hoped maybe Mick was embarrassed, that maybe he wanted to pretend it had never happened.

Charles should have called him, or texted if he was too cowardly to say it to Mick’s face. But he didn’t. And then the next time he saw him was Bahrain and he remembered to look on his face when he’d told Charles he’d got the test, and Charles knew he wasn’t cruel enough to do it before then.

So he did what he thought was the right thing, the nice thing. He reassured Mick’s nerves, he let Mick use him to forget why he was so scared. And for the first time Charles stayed after they were finished, he let Mick wrap his arms around his torso and rest his head on his chest. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t bring himself not to.

Mick came to find him after the test, high on adrenaline, grinning widely. Charles was glad he was happy, and he hated himself for taking that away.

“How was it?”

“It was amazing. It was…everything.”

Mick chuckled as he kissed Charles, spinning him around so he could press him against the wall. Charles almost lost himself in it, again, if Mick hadn’t whispered three little words against his neck.

“Mick.”

He used the hand he had on the side of his face to pull him Mick away from him, holding him steady. Mick was blushing, he looked sheepish but hopeful all at the same time, and Charles just felt so, so sorry for him.

“Mick I…”

But he was interrupted.

“I know, I know. But we’re so good together, this works, you know? And you _get_ me, you get what I’m going through.”

“Mick. No I don’t,” Charles shook his head and watched the joy die in Mick’s eyes, “I don’t have a clue what you’re dealing with. I know you want me to, but I don’t understand.”

“Well that, uh…” Mick stammered, the colour deepening on his cheeks. He looked a little like Charles had just slapped him in the face.

“I’m sorry, Mick. I don’t feel the same way. This was never more than fun for me, it’s never going to be more than that. You knew that, I made that clear.”

Mick finally dropped his hands from where he was holding onto Charles, his eyes shining as the tears filled them. Charles was struck by the same feeling of wanting to cry. He didn’t want to do this.

“I didn’t know, I thought…I thought you-…fuck,” Mick stepped away from him, raising shaking hands to his eyes to wipe away the tears.

“I’m sorry,” Charles repeated, uselessly.

“No you’re not,” Mick snapped, losing it a little for the first time since Charles had known him, “You’re not sorry or you wouldn’t have done this.”

Even though it was his room, Charles was the one who left, closing the door behind him so Mick wouldn’t be disturbed.

Maybe he was right, Charles shouldn’t have done all that he did.

But he really was sorry.


End file.
